Gosh, you want to tell people “it gets better.” But it does take a long time. The oceanside neighborhood I grew up in here in Virginia was flooded in a similarly freakish storm on Ash Wednesday in 1962. My mother and I had to be taken out through a window by an amphibious Army DUKW. It was almost six months before the house was repaired enough to move back into, and several months before all the water under the house was finally pumped out. (Underneath the house we found signs, trash cans and other debris from structures miles away.) Insurance paid for almost nothing. We were lucky, though, that we did have a house to come back to.